


If There Are Boundaries (I Will Try To Knock Them Down)

by dietchoked



Category: Glee RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dietchoked/pseuds/dietchoked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry spots dark, curly hair to rival his own near the private loo and he honestly can’t believe his luck. He slips past Darren slowly, hyper-aware of the way their hands brush as he heads for the door marked “PERFORMERS ONLY”. He turns just in time to catch Darren’s eye and gives him a slow smile, just this side of a smirk, as he tilts his head and pushes into the bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If There Are Boundaries (I Will Try To Knock Them Down)

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just shameless self-indulgence.

Harry twerks for Darren and he feels utterly stupid doing it. He’s a lanky bloke from Chesire, twerking on national - no, international - television for a stupidly talented TV star, and he thinks he’s maybe hit his peak. But everyone seems well-entertained, laughing and clapping like he’s doing it right or something. He’s not, he’s making a huge ass of himself, but Darren is grinning at him like the sun shines out of his ass. Harry decides he likes that. 

After  _Best Song Ever_ , the heat of embarrassment finally uncoils in his stomach, Harry finds his way backstage during one of the performances. Rude, he knows, but he alsoknows Darren has a break now. He’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be to make a move, because sneaking alcohol in America is hard and the drinking age is incredulously unfair, but. He  _really_  liked the way Darren’s hand felt pressed against his arm after they’d won their award. That’s enough to make him feel pissed, anyway. 

Harry spots dark, curly hair to rival his own near the private loo and he honestly can’t believe his luck. He slips past Darren slowly, hyper-aware of the way their hands brush as he heads for the door marked “PERFORMERS ONLY”. He turns just in time to catch Darren’s eye and gives him a slow smile, just this side of a smirk, as he tilts his head and pushes into the bathroom.  _  
_

He holds his breath, telling himself not to feel like a twat if Darren doesn’t follow. He doesn’t have a chance to make excuses as to why he’d ended up backstage again when the bathroom door he’d “accidentally” left unlocked opens and Darren slips inside, eyes dark, cloudy with— well, Harry doesn’t want to assume. 

But then he’s being crowded against the tiled wall, a hand reaching up to press next to his head, another hot on his hip. 

"S’this really what you want?" Darren voice is thick, rasping in a way it wasn’t on stage, making Harry’s stomach clench. He nods, slowly wetting his lips as he looks up at Darren, who’s somehow taller now with how he’s pushed Harry against the wall. 

"Good," Darren breathes out, rubbing his lips together before pressing them to Harry’s. It’s rough, desperate, and not at all romantic. It’s what Harry needs, he thinks, as he groans against Darren’s lips and ruts his hips forward. He’s hard already; the mere anticipation of it all had him aching in his stupidly tight trousers back out in the audience.

His fingers slip into the unruly mop of hair atop Darren’s head, tugging it to tilt his head back and deepen the kiss. Their mouths open at the same time, tongues immediately curling together as they fuck helplessly against each other. Harry feels a satisfying heat build in the pit of his stomach when he feels Darren wants it just as bad as he does, the hard line of his cock pressing firmly against Harry’s hip. 

There’s too much fabric and not enough time, so Harry knows they’ll have to get off from friction alone. He shift his hips, lips slipping down to Darren’s jaw, biting at the skin there once their cocks are pressed together, muffling the moan that bursts from his throat. Darren’s not as quiet with his noises, but Harry couldn’t care less as his gruff, breathless groans fill the air and make the hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickle. 

Darren’s hand is suddenly pushing it’s way up Harry’s shirt, and he’s done. Darren presses his hand firmly against Harry’s ribcage, fingers curling against him as he gives a particularly demanding roll of his hips, his cock sliding up against Harry’s at just the right angle. He hopes he doesn’t leave a bruise on Darren’s neck when he bites at his skin with a gasp, his cock giving a helpless throb as he comes. 

Harry must black out because when he finally finds it in him to open his eyes, Darren is slumped against him, face buried in Harry’s neck as he comes down from his own release. 

Slick, kiss-swollen lips dust his neck with small kisses before Darren pulls away, grinning crookedly at Harry. Harry realizes his fingers are still curled in the older man’s hair, and his cheeks flush as he drops his hands down to Darren’s shoulders. 

Darren laughs, short but sweet, his own hand moving out from under Harry’s shirt to rest on the wall behind his head instead. They’re still pressed hip to hip, catching their breath, when a knock comes, a stage manager shouting for Darren. He has to clear his throat twice before croaking out a “Coming!”, and Harry has to bite his tongue to avoid making a tasteless joke. 

Harry grins, slowly and wide, and pats Darren’s hip before untangling himself and going to wash off. He’d prefer it if they could fuck off and go back to the hotel to try this all again, with less clothes preferably, but Harry doesn’t think either of them fancy being yelled at by their managers. 

But then,

"You can come to my place, after, if you want," Darren starts, voice still rasping. "I mean, I know you’re in high demand at all of the Hollywood parties, but I do have a full liquor cabinet and I promise I won’t card you." 

"Right good influence, you are," Harry manages as he turns to face Darren again, trying for cool and nonchalant, not fucked out and desperate. 

"I’ll take that as a yes," Darren quips before he gives Harry an incredibly cheesy yet undeniably charming wink and slips out of the bathroom. 

He doesn’t tell anyone where he disappears to after the show is over, just turns off his phone as he slips into a cab with Darren, deciding the night will be more than worth enduring Paul’s harmless scolding in the morning. 


End file.
